


The Last Shred of Truth (In the Lost Myth of True Love)

by aintweproudriff



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Letters, M/M, Mentions Of Infidelity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-07-27 12:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintweproudriff/pseuds/aintweproudriff
Summary: Rather than asking Donny to check in on Julia if anything should happen to him, Michael asked Julia to take in Donny. When Donny comes back home, she helps him adjust, and inspires him to take a chance on starting a band of vets. Did Michael orchestrate their budding relationship, or is falling in love disrespectful to his memory?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be upfront for a hot second - I have no idea how often updates on this are going to come, or if it'll get finished. Writing fic has been so hard recently, and that's why I've done so little of it. But I'm going to try, because I have some ideas. If you guys like this fic, it may go on longer (and have a couple twists) but if it doesn't feel right or doesn't get a good response, I may wrap it up earlier.

Julia traced red lipstick onto her lips and licked her teeth. The early August sun lit the way for her to walk to the side table next to the couch in her breakfast nook. She pulled open the drawer and let her fingers drop in to parse through the papers - letters, mostly, along with a telegram on the bottom that took up more space than she wanted it to. She wouldn’t open that one ever again if she could help it. The rest of the papers, however, she read through as often as she could stand to. A few of them, including the ones she was about to re-open, she had already memorized. 

“Julia,” read the last paragraphs of the first letter, dated from January, “there’s this boy here named Donny Novitski. He’s young. Well, okay, he isn’t. He seems much younger than he is, and he’s too young to be seeing what he is while we’re fighting like we are.”

They were all too young to be seeing what they did, in Julia’s opinion. Michael was too young to die. She thought so when he went over, she thought so when she’d first learned he was dead, and she would think so for the rest of her life. 

“He’s a sweet <strike>kid</strike> guy, and plays the piano better than I’ve ever heard. You would like him. He’s from Cleveland, and grew up on the other side of town. His mom died years ago, and his dad died just before he shipped off, so he has no one to come home to when this <strike>fucking thing</strike> war is over. I’ve told him he can stay with us for however long he needs when I get back, and I hope that’s alright with you. If it’s not, I’m sorry, because what I’m about to ask next is going to be harder for you to do.”

Julia mouthed the words as she read them. 

“If I don’t make it home, would you write to him? And take care of him once he gets home? I worry about him, Julia. And I’m not naive - I know I may die out here, and so might he. Ideally, I would be able to introduce him to you in person once we’re home. Donny and I have become quite the pair, and I’d hate to not be with him when he gets to Cleveland. But in the chance that something happens, please take care of him for me.  
Please update me on everything at home. How are you and your mom? The church?  
I love you. Michael.”

The second letter was from Donny.

“Dear Julia, I’m being sent home! With the fighting over, they don’t need me here anymore. I’ll be on the boat leaving Manila headed to Brisbane, and that takes ten days. Then I’ll be on the boat from Brisbane to San Francisco, and that takes just shy of a month. Then three days, and I’ll be on the train that pulls into the Cleveland Union Terminal on August 2. I know it’s rude to outright ask, but Michael told me you would let me stay with you once the war ended, whether or not he was with me, and I have nowhere else to stay in Cleveland but a motel. Is that still alright with you?  
See you soon,  
Donny Novitski.  
P.S. Send the next letter to the Oakland Army Base, and they’ll get it to me. It’ll be a while until I can get the response or send a letter to you, so I hope you are well until then!”

Julia tucked the papers in her pocket and pulled up the tongue of her shoes before closing her bedroom door quietly behind her and stepping into the kitchen.  
She kissed her mother on the cheek and asked in a whisper if she would check the guest room one more time, to be sure it was fit for Donny. Pleased with the “of course, dear,” she received in response, Julia smiled and stepped out of her house, feeling the breeze on her bare arms bringing wind from the north.  
The day grew hotter in the fifteen minutes it took for her to reach the edge of downtown, so much so that it was stifling by the time she could hail a taxi to take her the rest of the way to the station.  
In the backseat, she ran her thumb over the yellowing paper of Donny’s letter, and wondered what it would be like to meet him for the first time. She had never even seen a photograph of him, since Michael hadn’t been able to send any; she assumed he had seen the one of her that Michael took in a locket. Would he be handsome? Or scruffy from being traveling for so long? Would he come up and hug her, or only shake her hand? And how would he adjust to living with Julia and June? They would have to tune that old piano - they tried last week, but neither of them were quite sure how to do it, so they elected to put it off and hope Donny could do it. Then, hopefully, he would play for them. It had been a while since she had sung music for anything besides church, but maybe if he asked-

The car pulled up to the curb at the station, and Julia paid 70 cents to the driver for the ride, thanking him kindly.  
She stepped into the station, and took a moment to comprehend the bustle all around her. People on her every side rushed to get to one platform or another, and she struggled to hold herself upright in the chaos of it all. Julia inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the grotesque smell that came with the population density, and willed her shoes to click on the marble floor as she walked down to the directory. 

The train from San Francisco would arrive in five minutes at a platform down the hall. She thanked God that she hadn’t missed Donny, and walked with faux confidence to the platform, sitting down on a wooden bench next to the wall when she arrived. 

As she waited, she tried to note the amount of windows. Ten on one wall, two larger ones on another, and all sorts of elegance. Most people hardly seemed to notice. She pulled out her notebook and scribbled a few lines:  


_The space between you and I, _  
_Brightened by sunlight,_  
_Darkened by our last goodbye_,  
_And the knowledge of the path of life._

Happy with a good beginning of a poem, she tucked the book away again.  
People started to get off the train. Sleepy faces of old women, men, young couples with children, and teenagers walked through. She tried to look for a man that looked younger than Michael, just barely, before realizing that Donny was the age Michael had been when she had last seen him.  
The thought rattled her, and she put her hands in her pockets, grabbing a bunch of fabric to hold her nerves inside her body.  
As she was beginning to wonder if she had the right platform, if she should go back and check if there was another train coming from San Francisco today, she saw a man with dark hair step off the train. He scanned the area, and she studied him. He had a flat nose, a clean face, and wore a plaid short-sleeved shirt. He must have been about her age, so it may have been him. Julia stepped forward. 

His eyes lit up with recognition and she smiled. This must have been Donny. 

“Are you Julia?” he almost yelled across the station. 

She laughed to herself, nodded, and waved. Already it was easy to understand why Michael liked him so much.  
He stepped over to her, and held out his hand. “Julia, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he smiled. 

“You as well. Can I help you with either of your bags, Donny?”

“No, I’m alright, thank you,” he held out his free hand as if to tell her not to come closer, but waved it away to get rid of the angry energy he must have known he harbored. “Should we be on our way?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lsdkaj My editing app gives this a grade 2,,, and my usual writing is about a grade 4. it's fine. good enough

The two of them walked through the station doors and into the sunshine together, unsure of what to say. Julia wondered what Michael would ask Donny. She wondered what she would ask Michael, if it was him who had returned. That would be a very different conversation, she knew; it would be best not to spend time wishing Donny was Michael, in case she began to feel bitter towards the man staying in her house. 

“How was the trip here?” Julia asked, at a loss for a less mundane topic. “That boat trip must have been something.”

Donny scoffed. “It was. People celebrated the entire first week. I stayed drunk for, oh, four or five days in a row. Played the piano a lot on board - they had a big one in the ballroom. I must have played every song I knew twenty times. But by the time we were completely in open water, most of us sobered up.”  
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth resolutely, and Julia remembered her mom’s advice: if Donny didn’t want to talk about something, she wasn’t to push him. The poor man had been through hell and back in this war. It wasn’t her place to know. 

“That leaves almost three weeks on board without the party. What was it like to see land again?”

“Well we stopped in Hawaii for a night, before we made the last week-and-a-half leg of the trip. Buncha guys got off for the night to drink, have some fun, you know.”

“Did you?” she asked, regretting it almost immediately. “You don’t have to answer.”

“I did, and I did drink, but I didn’t have much fun. A couple of the guys decided they liked it so much there that they stayed. The next morning, they weren’t on the boat. They sent their buddies on board with resignation letters and instructions not to give them to the sergeant until after the boat had left the port. He was pissed, of course, but I think he understood. Those guys were the ones without people waiting for them in the US. If you hadn’t been here to pick me up, I mighta-”  
He shrugged, as if to say that Julia understood what he meant. She did.   
“Not that I had a buddy to give my letter to, though. I’d been kinda by myself the whole time. The only time people liked having me around was when I played.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. I’m more than happy to have you in my house,” Julia promised, “and you don’t even have to touch the piano if you don’t want to.”

His head jerked up. “You have a piano?”

“We do,” she laughed at the smile splitting his face. “It’s old and out of tune, but it’s all yours if you want to use it.”

“I may take you up on that. Um, who is ‘we’? Have you? I mean, once Michael died, did you-”

Julia shook her head violently. “I have not remarried, if that’s what you’re trying to ask. I live in my mother’s house, and moved in when Michael shipped off. Didn’t he tell you that?”

“He may have mentioned it,” Donny waved his hands. “I forget exactly what he said about you, except that you’re kind and beautiful.”

She exhaled shakily. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“For what? Michael said it.” 

“I know. Thank you for telling me what he said about me.”

“Oh,” he said, and she watched recognition dawn on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

“Um, are you thinking about getting a job, now that you’re back in town?” she asked, hoping to God she wasn’t being too invasive. 

Donny sighed. “Hopefully, yeah. With some luck I can get a regular gig playing at one of the clubs in town. I know a guy who might hook me up with a spot.”

She nodded, glad that he had some sort of direction. “If you need, I can always talk to my boss about getting you a job. Not on the floor, probably, but processing data or in sales or receiving products for the store.”

“Maybe,” he hummed. “But I would rather avoid having a basic job. If I’m not playing music, there’s not much point to living.”

She wanted to say she understood, but she was happy with her job. It wasn’t ideal, but she muddled through. It gave her an income, and with no man in the house recently, and her and her mother to provide for, that was worth a lot.   
“Michael was always the same way,” she settled for saying. “He hated all of the mundane jobs he did around the city. All he wanted to do was play the drums.”

“Yeah,” his shadow nodded, and his voice turned sour. “I remember.”

They chatted about the clubs where Donny had played in the past as they neared Julia’s house. He seemed excited to be back, and she was glad of it. 

She pushed open the front door for him, and called out to her mother, who came rushing down. 

“Is this Donny?” she asked loudly, all but forgetting that Julia was there. 

“I am, hello,” he said graciously in reply. “You must be Julia’s mom. Um, Mrs-”

She smiled and shook her head. “Mrs. Adams, but call me June, Donny.”

He shook her hand, happy. “June, thank you so much for letting me stay in your house while I get back on my feet in Cleveland. It really does mean so much to me to have somewhere to go.”

“Of course,” June dropped his hand, but put her now-free hand on his shoulder. “I’m trying to do right by Michael, and by Julia. You’re more than welcome here.”

His eyes glassed over, but he blinked the look away. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“Besides serve our country?” June asked loudly, and Donny’s whole body visibly tightened. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m going to have you go get settled, and I’ll be serving a dinner soon. What do you like to drink?”

“Whatever you have, June, is fine.” 

June grinned, glad to have someone so polite in the house, and waved Julia and Donny up the stairs.  
Julia walked with Donny up to his room, disappointed that he wouldn’t let her take one of his bags up for him. Two bags didn’t seem like nearly enough to make a room into a home, but maybe that was for the best, she thought as she closed the door between them and walked down the hall back to her room. If he didn’t feel at home here, he wouldn’t want to stay here.   
It wasn’t that she didn’t want him here, but on the walk home, he’d looked less and less like Donny, and all she had been able to hear was the way his voice sounded like a higher-pitched version of Michael’s. And so much of what they had discussed was about Michael, or traced its way back to Michael.   
But it had been Michael’s request that she take him in, and she was prepared to honor that. He’d said that he thought they would get along well. While he was sitting somewhere in Manila, he must have known something that she, standing in a hallway in Cleveland, couldn’t know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is totally unedited and im sorry but i have to go quickly lol

Donny was struggling. She could tell - it wasn’t hard to see. Even though she didn’t know him well, Julia could tell when someone was hurting.  
After dinner that first night, Donny had tried to tune the piano, and found that it was too big to get inside and tune each string. So he tuned the ones he could reach by standing on the ground, and grabbed a stool so he could reach a few more. But the middle three keys, E, F, and G above Middle C, were unreachable. So those three stayed out of tune.  
Donny played a few songs for them, and even got Julia to sing one of the ballads he played, but he had played every song either higher up or lower down on the piano than it was supposed to be. 

They fell into a routine of it after three days. Donny would go out and look for a job in clubs while Julia went to work, June stayed home and read or cooked or cleaned, sometimes going out to spend time with the ladies from church. In the evenings, they ate dinner together, and played music before going to bed.  
Less than a week into Donny’s stay, she began to notice it. Music in the night. The first and second time she heard it, she laid still in bed, petrified with fear. The third time she heard it, she crept down the stairs to investigate, only to find Donny at the piano, quitely plucking out a melody. She sat down on the stairs, about halfway down, and listened and watched. Every few minutes, he would either shake his head and try something different, or write something down in his notebook. She realized eventually that he was writing a song.  
The second night she went down to watch, Donny was working on a different song, and this time, he took a swig from a dark bottle every few minutes. He puckered after each drink, but kept going back for more. 

It continued for almost two weeks. At about midnight, Julia would hear the piano start to play. More often than not, she would walk down the stairs to see what he was working on now. Some nights he avoided the keys that were out of tune, writing whole songs in octaves above or below them. But some nights, usually the ones when he took repeated drinks from a bottle, he kept the out of tune keys in the song. She wasn’t sure if he didn’t mind the dissonance because he knew how the notes were supposed to sound, or if maybe he kept them in because he liked the way it sounded wrong. 

The worse nights were when she didn’t hear the piano, but her body woke her up at midnight anyway. She would creep downstairs those nights, and see him sitting at the piano silently, usually with a bottle in hand. She had a sneaking suspicion he had used most of the money he got from the government to buy alcohol, but she hadn’t brought it up. How could she? She had no idea what she’d even say.  
On one such night, he slumped over the piano just as she walked down, the keys making a groaning noise as his chest an entire octave at once. She stayed quiet for a moment, but when she heard him sigh, something crushed her heart in her chest, and she took a few more steps down the staircase. 

“Donny?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

He jerked up and his eyes reflected the streetlights from outside. “Julia. Did I wake you up?”

“No, actually,” she laughed softly. “Every other night, you do, and tonight you didn’t, so I thought something must be wrong. Or, um, more wrong than usual.”

“So you’ve seen me every night before this?” he asked, turning around on the piano bench to face her better. 

“Well, yes. I like listening to you play, and I-” she sighed. “I usually can’t sleep either,” she lied. 

Donny hummed. “Well, at least it hasn’t been my fault. Feels like everything else is.” 

“What do you mean?” she took steps down the stairs and stood at the bottom, not close enough to him for it to be uncomfortable, but not so far away that he had to speak louder than a whisper. 

He grumbled. “No one will give me a job. I’ve looked everywhere, and no one will hire me.” 

“I’m sorry, Donny.” 

“It’s not your fault, of course. It does mean that I’m staying at your house, and not contributing anything except music. And even that is at -” he looked up at the clock on the wall “-two in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to contribute,” she shook her head, desperately trying to say something, anything, that would make him less sour. “You were Michael’s friend until the moment he died, and that’s enough.” 

“That’s all I think about. I was his friend when he died, but I need him more now than he ever needed me.” 

“-Donny,” she grimaced. 

“He was a better man than I am. He should be here, with you, in your living room tonight. Not me. He would be able to get a job, to provide for his wife.” 

She touched her cheek and wiped away a tear before it could show itself. 

“Whenever you say something, Julia, I feel like I hear him. It - he was right. You and him were perfect for one another. And me being here feels wrong. I’m encroaching, I know it, so I’m going to move out as soon as I have the money.” 

Julia turned around to face away from him. “Don’t feel like you have to. I like having you here,” she said. “It’s nice to have someone come home to me, even if it isn’t Michael.” 

Donny laid his fingers on the broken keys. “I’m sorry he isn’t here. I’m sorry I’m not him, for more reasons than one.” 

“He would be glad you’re here.” 

The two of them paused the conversation, for lack of anything constructive to say. It was only when Julia turned back around that she could see he had been crying too. 

“Let’s turn the radio on,” she suggested, sick of the silence but not wanting to bring back the conversation. “You don’t have to play music.” 

She walked over and turned the dial up. As one song came to an end, an announcer’s voice began to speak. 

“This is Andre Barouche for the American Songbook of Popular Music brought to you by Bayer Aspirin.”  
She stepped aside to let the sound carry through the room better.  
“NBC Radio and Metro Goldwyn Mayor are looking for the next great swing band to write their very own song in honor of our boys in uniform.” 

She saw Donny’s head jerk up, and she watched his face intensely. 

“Yes! It's the American songbook's tribute to the troops. A winning band from each state will compete in a nationwide broadcast, live from the palace theatre in New York on December 16th to determine who will appear in a spectacular new motion picture musical, and be immortalized in Hollywood history.” 

The two of them looked at each other for a moment as another song started. 

“Donny, you write songs, don’t you?” Julia asked slowly. “You write swing songs.” 

He nodded shakily. 

“They’re good. They’re catchy. I’ve heard them. You could enter that contest.” 

“I could,” he agreed. “I would need a band to do it with, though. And that’s the hard part, is getting a band together and having them work well together, and having the look of a band that could be in the movies. We would need a band with a story, something, um,” he clenched his fists, searching for a word. 

“Compelling?” she supplied. 

“Exactly. The trick isn’t the music, it’s the delivery.” 

“Okay, so get a good delivery,” she said, a smile returning to her face now that her eyes had dried. 

“Oh!” he jumped up. “What do I have that most people don’t? What have I done that sets me apart from anyone who wants to get famous?”  
Donny didn’t wait for her to answer. “They’ll all be writing about being overseas, but I was there. I made it through. I did the service. Anyone can play the piano and sing and get together a band of handsome men, but only I could put together a band where everyone’s a vet.” 

“People would take notice of that,” she agreed. “It would set you apart. And if you’re good, to boot?” 

“We could win.” He grinned. “I could be a movie star. And,” he pointed at her, “so could you! You would sing lead with me, right?” 

“No, I couldn’t.” 

“Well, why not? You’re good, I’ve heard you. 

She pulled the first excuse she could think of. “I’m not a veteran.” 

“You have a gold star, Julia. If anyone’s got a right to talk about the horrors of war, it’s you.” 

“Not as much as people who’ve lived it,” she argued softly. 

“More than some schmuck who just wants to get rich,” he replied. “But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” 

She leaned against the banister. “Thank you.” 

“Do you know anyone who served who can play swing?” he asked, and she could feel electricity bouncing off his skin from across the room. 

Julia paused to think about it. “Actually, yes. Michael and I went to school with a boy - a man - named Jimmy Campbell. He plays-” 

“Saxophone? I remember that name.” 

“Yeah, he does. He’s good, too, and plays at a club now regularly. The Blue Wisp.” 

“Oh,” Donny raised his head. “I know that place. I’ll go tomorrow.” 

“That sounds good,” she said, and turned around to brew a pot of coffee, figuring that neither of them would be getting much sleep the rest of the night. 

“Really?” Donny asked, any confidence he had possessed gone. 

“Yeah,” she turned to look at him. “I mean it. This could be really, really good for you.” 

Satisfied, he played a riff on the piano. “Will you come see this Jimmy person with me?” 

“I’d like to, if you don’t mind. It’ll be good to see him again.” 

Donny didn’t respond, but he hummed an upbeat, bouncy tune as he fiddled with the piano keys. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that chapter!! I feel like things are picking up now


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my gosh I'm so sorry it's been almost two months since an update!!! ive never done this before   
I just started college, and I'm taking a hard semester, and everything has been crazy, but I've managed to get out one unedited chapter for you! whoo!

Donny and Julia stepped into a dimly lit club at seven minutes past seven in the evening. She could hear a phonograph crackling in a room nearby, but within seconds of their being there, a saxophone began to play, and Donny made a beeline for the music.   
As they stepped through the door, she heard a familiar voice. 

“How’s the house tonight?” Jimmy -- it was obviously him, even if his voice sounded more like cigarettes, and his outline seemed broader -- asked. 

“Lining up already,” answered a girl whose hips swayed as she walked. 

Jimmy bent down to pick up a drink off the piano bench. “And of course Skip’s running late. If he wasn’t such a good piano player, I swear I’d-”

“Hiya,” Donny interrupted, making himself known. Julia stayed behind him, scared to be seen. “I’m looking for Jimmy Campbell.”

“Yeah, we’re not open yet,” Jimmy waved him away, hardly even looking over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, the back door is,” Donny used as an excuse to invite himself in further, and Julia was stuck.   
If she followed, she would be seen, and have to talk to Jimmy. And she loved Jimmy. She had come here because she loved Jimmy. But Jimmy had loved Michael, and if she had to be the one to tell him about what happened, it might break her. But she couldn’t hide, because what kind of coward would do that?  
She stayed where she was. 

Nothing got by Jimmy, though. As soon as he turned around, a look of confusion and anger on his face, he saw her.   
“Julia?” he asked, looking right past Donny. 

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Hi Jimmy. It’s good to see you.”

And it was. 

“Jesus, it’s good to see you too, Julia,” he grabbed her arms and looked her in the eyes, and she hadn’t even realized that he had walked over to her. “How are - how have you been?”

“I’m alright, thanks.”

“And Michael?”

She saw Donny flinch. 

“He was shipped off to the Philippines,” she nodded slowly, and Jimmy dropped his arms. “He won’t be coming back.”

Jimmy looked like he was going to swear, but his shoulders rolled in a sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good friend.”

“He was.” She looked at Donny, who nodded solemnly, and decided she should introduce him. “This is-” she paused, debating if she should say ‘my friend’ or ‘our friend,’ but unsure. “This is Michael’s friend from overseas, Donny Novitski. He’s thinking about starting a band of all vets.”

“Yeah, Rubber said you’re good,” Donny lifted his chin just a tad, and Julia wondered what kind of dominance he was trying to get. He sat down at the piano and looked at Jimmy over his shoulder. “You know ‘Tell Me Tonight?’”

Jimmy glanced at Julia, anxious, and she nodded slightly to urge him forward. He lifted the reed to his mouth and started to play, slowly at first, and then faster when Donny joined in on the piano. 

She knew Donny was good, even from an out of tune piano. She knew Jimmy was good back in high school when he played in the band. Both of them sounded better than when she’d ever heard them before. Together, there, they were electric. Without realizing she was doing it, she caught herself smiling and nodding to the song. 

“So you’ll join?” Donny said, lifting his hands from the piano mid-progression. 

Jimmy blinked. “Excuse me?’

“You’re good. I’m inviting you to join.”

The saxophone in Jimmy’s hand lowered to rest by his hips. “I’m. I’m working on a law degree, and between that and the club, I don’t have time-”

“But you’re good, and I’m inviting you to join.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that already.”

Julia had spent enough time around Donny at this point to know what he was saying: “you’re really good, and I can’t do this without a good saxophone, and I won’t find another who’s as good as you, so I need you in this band.”  
And she knew enough about Jimmy from high school   
She stepped next to Donny, and stopped her hand just shy of touching his shoulder. “Jimmy,” she said softly, and tilted her head. She hoped it was saying what she wanted it to: please, do this for Michael. 

“Jesus,” Jimmy waved his hand above his head. “Alright.”

She grinned, and Donny hissed a “yes.”

“Don’t get too excited, either of you. If this is too much of a commitment, and if I can’t do my work for the club or for school, or if something goes wrong, I’m out. Just like that. No second chances.”

“Understood,” Donny nodded sharply. “But this is going to be worth your while.”

He was visibly too excited to care, but Jimmy’s warning sent of sparks in Julia’s head. Was something going to go wrong? Did Jimmy expect problems out of Donny?

“Do you know any other guys who served who play instruments? They’ve gotta be young and good looking.” Donny’s shoulders jolted as he chuckled. “Like us.”

The color in Jimmy’s cheeks paled, and Julia remembered that look from way back when. “It’s radio,” he stammered. “What does it matter?”

“If we win, we get to be in the movies. We’re going to have our faces all over the country. Do you know any?”

Jimmy paused. “Yeah, actually. I know a guy who plays down at Oliver’s. Best bass player I’ve met-” he tilted his head, as if making a judgement “-when he’s not high.”

Donny shook his head. “Jesus.”

“He’s army, too.”

The expression on Donny’s face shifted, and Julia knew he was pondering the idea of the best bass player in the city. “He’s a risk, but I’ll try him.”

“Good. Meet me at the Rio Lounge tomorrow night,” Jimmy bent down to pick up his sheet music, and he didn’t look over his shoulder. 

Donny’s jaw dropped. “He plays at the Rio?”

It looked like Jimmy wanted to comment on what a ridiculous idea that was. “Oh, no,” he laughed. “He drinks there.”

When Jimmy left the back room, on his way to play his show, Donny turned on his heel to face Julia. “We got one. God, I’m so glad we got one.”  
The back of his hand brushed the back of her arm as he gestured excitedly, his face lit up like a stage. 

“I can’t believe that worked,” Julia admitted. “I mean, I knew Jimmy, but I forgot he served. I’m impressed that you remembered who he was, after Michael told you, what - once?”

“Not once. So many times,” Donny said, his face dead serious. “We talked about this all the time.”

She didn’t know what to say, and chose instead to stare at the spot out of which Jimmy had left. 

“Well!” Donny clapped his hands. “We got one down. Prepare to be more impressed, Julia Trojan, because I’m going to get us four more veteran musicians, and I’m going to get the best ones Cleveland has for me.”

It must have been the fact that they’d gotten Jimmy already, or the way he said it, or how he wanted it so much, but she believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I love love love the idea that Julia and Jimmy were friends in high school.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading; I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought with a kudo, comment, or by talking to me on tumblr @aintweproudriff or @lesbianpomatter


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